Journal entries Daniel
by Kazuki Landen
Summary: *On hiatus* This follows Daniel's private journal entries for a year, one month to a chapter. It's not season specific. Daniel/Jack slash, but no details.
1. January

January 2nd

My name is Daniel Jackson.

I don't expect you to know why people stay in places that are entirely awful. I wouldn't know, either, except that I've been there. I've stayed in those sort of situations. I've spent many years of my life in them.

We stay… we stay because there is always the risk that the next place, the next situation, will be worse, will be even more awful, than the one you're in now. And after the first few times, you fear going anywhere, fear moving to the worse place.

Then you try to stop moving, to stay where you are, so you can try and make that place a little better, a little kinder… But it never works. You move again, get pushed on, sent away. Or it gets so bad that you can't stand it, and run, and get moved anyway.

Life isn't fair like that. You have to try, you try so_ hard_, but in the end, nothing really matters. It's all the same. Until you escape, and then you're free. But your life has been so screwed up that you're screwed up too, and you've spent so much of your life moving on that you can't work properly, knowing that you will only move again, and you have ideas so completely alien that you are rejected, and despised.

Or maybe that's just me.

January 6th

I'm exhausted. Not by what I've done in the last few days, or weeks, or months, or even years, but by life itself. I'm tired, because of what life has done to me. It has given me so many things, but they're almost all bad, almost all cause me pain.

It took my parents. It took my whole world away, in one fell swoop, without even any warning. Then it took my first set of foster parents away from me. I loved them nearly as much as I loved my parents.

Then it took me. It set me rattling from one set of new 'parents' to the next, each worse that the last.

Now… I've found a new family, of a sort. But it took half my lifetime. Half a lifetime of being rejected, laughed at… but it's changed. Well, some of it has.

Still life exhausts me. It's more vibrant now than it ever was, and I feel more and more fatigued. I don't know what's happening to me. Well, I do, but it makes no sense. Why punish me all my life, then give me… nearly the exact life I want, and have wanted since I can remember?

Perhaps it is waiting, still going to punish me for some unknown act, taking away my happiness only to plunge me into even greater depths of despair.

Maybe I'm being paranoid. Or maybe not. My life has been one misery after another. It has only got better recently. Why should the last bit of my life be better than the rest? It'll get worse soon enough. Maybe I should just enjoy it while it's still there.

January 11th

I work hard – I try my best. I do what I can. I try to save lives. Sometimes I do. More often, I can't save them, and they die. Like my parents did. I try, but nothing I can do can save them.

People I work with sometimes look at me, wishing they could be like me. Or at least, that's what a select group of people tell me. But I don't know why people would want to be in my shoes. Not… not with my life, with my memories. No. I wouldn't want to bestow that curse on anyone, not my best friend, nor my worst enemy.

I know a man… a man that is courageous and brave, has some idea of how I feel, of what I've lost. He's lost a son, and he's done some terrible things. He regrets them, but can't take them back. So he lives with them.

He's stronger that me, braver than me, and has accomplished so much more. I love it when he says that I've done something right, when he says I've done well. But… those occasions are rare, much more rare than those times when he says I've screwed up, when he says that I'm wrong.

I hate those times. I feel my face redden, and I duck my head, trying to hide my shame. I know a woman, a woman as brave as that man, and with a life almost as varied. She'll do anything to save someone she loves, will sacrifice herself for someone else, no matter what the cost to her.

Those two people are two thirds of the small group of people who tell me that other people think I'm lucky. The third… a warrior, braver than me by far – he faces down armies, where I would hide and cower.

They are my life now, my family. I hold them close to me, hoping that it will last. But it won't. It can't. It never has, it never does.

It never will.

January 17th

I feel old. I don't look old, but I feel it. My mind… there is so much information, so many memories, contained in it, it is fuller than I ever thought a mind could be. It hurts, sometimes, the strength of those memories, the… the ferocity of them.

I try to forget. I try… I try to bury my mind in my work, in trivial tasks, but I can only forget for so long, then all those things flood back in, a deluge of pain, of terror.

Things… the tiniest things… a smell, a small object, a mere symbol… anything can bring those memories back, even a word said at a certain time, perhaps a song on the radio, an advert on the television… it's too hard to avoid them.

Even when I'm not on Earth… yes, it's hard to believe, I know, but humour me… things jump out at me, distract me from what I'm doing, stopping me from saving lives, where I know I could have. That brings back more memories, memories of my parents… if I could have saved them, just tried that bit harder to get them out from the cornerstone… my life could have been so different…

January 25th

Coming back from another planet, seeing people lined up in front of me as I return home… it's wonderful. It makes me feel wanted, needed… part of a family larger than the three I count as my closest kin. This… this is the first time in my life I've ever felt like this. I love it.


	2. February

February 1st

If anything, the weather is worse than it was in January. There was snow… blizzards, and icy winds. It's settled now. I'm going to go and have a snowball fight with Jack. This should be interesting.

February 7th

Ow. I'm still in pain from the snowball fight. Jack won. I have bruises all over my body, and one on my chest is going spectacular colours. Jack keeps telling me he wants to see it. Sam has told me that he must have ulterior motives – I'm sure she's joking.

Oh, I hope she isn't.

February 12th

A bit worried at the moment. People keep staring at me in the hallways. Sam keeps mentioning the fact that valentine's day is coming up, and asking whether I'm going to put a box outside my door or take all the cards individually. I think I'm going to take the day off – have a duvet day. It's a rubbish excuse to miss work, but valentine's day always makes me miserable. Too many years in high school with no cards and no hints of anyone giving a damn.

February 13th

General Hammond has told me I can't have tomorrow off. He told me I was vital for some talks with the people from P3X-59A. I didn't think I was 'vital' for those, but…

Jack's been quiet recently. I think he's plotting something. General Hammond's probably been bribed into keeping me here for Jack's amusement.

February 14th

I think my cheeks will be permanently red. So many people gave me cards today… they're all in a box in my office, buried under some boring looking files I know Jack won't touch. There're even some presents there, chocolates and so on. It's ridiculous – this place is like a high school.

I'm going home now. Watch some rubbish on tv, eat my chocolates, and try and forget about the fact that the one person I really, really wanted to send me a card hasn't. At least, looking at the cards I've been sent, none of them look like Jack's sort of thing. I mean, I've always thought Jack was a romantic at heart, but not _that_ much of a romantic. Not that much of a sap, either.

February 15th

Sam wasn't joking.

February 21st

I have just spent the most wonderful week of my life being 'courted'. Jack insists on calling it that. Mainly because he knows it makes me blush. I've been on dates before, but I've never been 'courted'. As it is, I don't really want to rock the boat.

Actually, I do want to rock the boat, but that's next weekend, so…

I can't believe I'm writing this.

I can't believe I'm _living_ this!

February 26th

I'm still floating. Jack is… amazing. And that secret romantic side I always suspected about? It's definitely there. He really can be sweet.

Work is fine – people keep telling me I look great. Sam keeps giving me these knowing looks – a raised eyebrow when Jack comes into the room and I blush, or just a smirk when I leave Jack's office at 1522. Everyone knows that the cameras are turned off from 1519 to 1522. What everyone _doesn't_ know is that they're turned off in Jack's office from 1502 to 1522.

Those twenty minutes are the best minutes of my day. Other than the morning wake up call, that is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So, now the first two chapters are up, what do you think? I'm planning to do the whole year, but I guess that's kind of obvious. Anyway, feedback would be massively appreciated.


	3. March

March 3rd

Sam's found a new boyfriend. She told me that since I was having so much fun with Jack, she was feeling left out. So, we're going on a night out – her, the new boyfriend, Jack and me. Plus, she wants us to vet him. Considering the choices in boyfriends she's made lately, it's not really surprising.

We're going out tomorrow evening, to the new Italian place down the road. I hope Jack doesn't embarrass me… he seems to have a habit of doing that recently. It's the whole romance thing

It's cute in an 'oh my God I hope no one from the SGC sees this' kind of way.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 5th

Sam's boyfriend was all right, right up to the point when he saw Jack and I holding hands. He went a bit mad. Said that he'd been sat opposite two fags the whole meal and had put up with it without saying a word, but it was too much to have to watch it.

Jack decked him – only a moment before Sam would have, but she was at the wrong angle. He broke the guy's nose.

I'm not sorry. I should be, but… the pacifist side of me did a runner.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 6th

Sam split up from her boyfriend today. Very, very publicly. She went to his office and used her best – read loudest – 'captain' voice. Apparently, he was humiliated. Jack gloated so much when Sam passed on the news, it was faintly disturbing.

She told me today that she thought we had the right idea and had decided to become a lesbian. The look on Jack's face was absolutely priceless. For a colonel, he's amazingly gullible. I hope they won't take it too seriously – he's no fun when he's distracted.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 9th

Jack left for his mother's house this morning. It's her birthday tomorrow, but I'm not going up there. I didn't think she'd exactly approve. Jack said otherwise, but I think he understood.

I miss him already. He's been gone for a week. It's the longest we've been apart since we started dating.

It's disconcerting, sat here writing in bed without his weight beside me. It's been nearly a month now, and we started staying in the same bed (mine) a week ago. Not that we've had… we've… crap, can't believe I can't even say 'sex' in my own journal. We haven't had sex. Right, there.

Great, now I'm arguing with my journal.

March 11th

Jack rang today. He misses me. He's having a nice time with his parents – a 'nice time'. Great. Good for him.

I'm snowed under with translation work, three of my team are off sick and I'm due to go off world tomorrow. So, it'll be at least another week before I see him, even if I do manage to escape the paper work once I come back.

I miss him, too.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 15th

Stupid Emerson. Stupid aliens. Stupid, muddy, freezing planet with stupid ruins. I'm miserable, and I want to go home

I miss home.

I miss home with Jack.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 19th

Jack got home today. I can't talk to him, not properly, for another three days. I'm practically counting down the hours, when I'm not huddled in a little ball at the base of the obelisks I came to look at.

They are beautiful. The script is so intricate, and it uses a form of Linear B that I've only seen perhaps once before.

Maybe the freezing cold is worth it for this.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 21st

I'm supposed to be going home today. I'm going to ask General Hammond for an extension, of maybe three days. These ruins just deserve more time.

And… there's another reason why I want to stay here.

Jack's at home. He's spent a week with his parents, being the good, diligent son. I'm just… a little worried that he'll have changed his mind about this thing we have going on.

I'm worried he'll have changed his mind about me. And I don't think I can deal with that.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 22nd

Still on P9A-XR1. When I spoke to General Hammond, he seemed fairly happy to keep us here for another three days.

Jack turned up half way through our conversation. He was just hanging around in the background, smiling to himself, but when I asked for the extension he just stared at me, looking a little shocked. I don't think he was expecting that.

He didn't say anything, though, just vanished behind a couple of airmen.

I felt my face fall a little, but kept talking. I don't think anyone noticed.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

March 27th

More supplies came through today. After General Hammond granted a second, longer, extension – Jack wasn't there to see it, this time – we decided we'd need more kit to do a proper examination. Among the archaeological equipment – not much, just a couple of things in a bag and a few books – was a letter. It was from Jack, but I'm not sure quite what he means.

I get that he has to be discrete – anyone could read it, even though it IS addressed to me – but still. It's… short. And it could mean… well, there's a lot of options.

I'll leave it in here until I can think of a better place to put it.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

Letter inserted into diary after the March 27th entry

Daniel,

I don't understand. What's so interesting about these ruins that keeps you from coming back? I'm not that bad. You could always say something, I'd stop bothering you.

I think we need to have a talk. When you come home, come round to my place. I'll be waiting with beer and pizza.

Jack.


End file.
